


Prior Glory

by tzigane, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Series: Grey Matter [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom!Hannibal, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Master/Slave, Scars, wetwiring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 16:56:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzigane/pseuds/tzigane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He let his mouth linger, let his teeth press lightly against that scarred knot of skin. First the hospital for the criminally insane, then the treatment, the wetwiring, the <i>fighting</i>, had piled the scars onto Hannibal. He'd gotten through life until then with firm skin, just the old break in his arm marring his skin. Will remembered Hannibal un-marred, when he'd been in his full glory. "How do you feel this morning?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prior Glory

The scars at the base of Hannibal's neck were tough, knotted from irritation from those first days, before they'd realized they needed to handcuff him like he was the god-damned Wolverine, hands behind his back, fingers covered and enclosed. There was a lot that they'd learned slowly, on and off in spurts, and he'd known it from the start, so when they'd given him that thick binder, he'd laughed so hard Jack thought he was going to pop a blood vessel.

Idiots. They could have asked. It would have been much better if they had, not only for the damage done to Hannibal, but for the sheer number of people he killed before they managed to figure out what they needed to do to keep him from doing it.

It hadn't worked, but they had certainly tried.

He slept well now, knowing exactly where Hannibal was, safe and well tended with him, fingers lingering on scars from where he'd pulled and pulled against the chest restraints that had run across his body, tucked under his arms. 

Will pressed his mouth against the scar at the back of Hannibal's neck.. "I know you're awake."

"Of course you do." There was no moment of muzziness between sleep and wakefulness for Hannibal; he had long since established that. Funny, truly. The wetwiring worked so well for most people, kept them docile, made them mostly into fairly mindless sex slaves. It was certainly one way to control the most dangerous of criminals. Statistically, it was highly improbable that it wouldn't work.

The fact that everyone thought it did was good for Will.

He let his mouth linger, let his teeth press lightly against that scarred knot of skin. First the hospital for the criminally insane, then the treatment, the wetwiring, the _fighting_ , had piled the scars onto Hannibal. He'd gotten through life until then with firm skin, just the old break in his arm marring his skin. Will remembered Hannibal un-marred, when he'd been in his full glory. "How do you feel this morning?"

Slowly, Hannibal turned, looking at him. Once, he had at least made the effort to fake something like human emotion. Now, he just looked at Will, expression minimally interested even as he reached out a finger and traced it across the bridge of his nose. "Awake." Undoubtedly horny, as well.

There were certain things the wetwiring had hit with utter accuracy.

"Mmmm." He needed to get up, make breakfast, check his messages, check his email. Call Jack, as the time difference would be right. "Nothing out of the ordinary?" He was always monitoring. They had a decent life together, things worked. He never wanted to lose that because amateur scientists thought it was a good idea.

"No more than usual." That meant left side weakness, a certain amount of sciatica that tended to ripple down unexpectedly and make him stumble. There were a few other subtle issues, but those were the more troublesome. He blinked, tilted his head to the side and leaned in to nip firmly at Will's jaw.

He was still looking for a miracle cure for sciatica, but the world as a whole had thought it was fine. Reduce a serial killer to a mindless sex toy who had trouble walking sometimes. Fit additional shame for his life, for his punishment. Will squirmed down a little against the mattress, fingers moving as Hannibal rolled back against him, a comfortable resettling as he gave Hannibal more room to explore. If he wanted to.

He always wanted to, every time, and so it was unsurprising when Hannibal slid his hand down his belly, lingering on the twist of smooth tissue that he had given Will _before_. "Of course."

Hard to forget that night, being killed and vindicated in the same motion, cleared of all charges with a spill of his guts on smooth marble floor. Will slid his hand down between them, wrapped fingers around Hannibal's cock. "I need to move the coffee maker into the bedroom."

Low sound, and Hannibal looked at him, eyes flat and curiously nothing like the pretense he used to make. Will much preferred it to then, because he could read it a hell of a lot better. "That would be acceptable. Coffee and then fucking."

When he did get an emotional response out of Hannibal, it stood out like a shining jewel. "I like the order of that." He squeezed, settling onto his back slowly, let his other hand slide down Hannibal's spine. More scars, marks that were his, finally, carefully laid over his skin. A patchwork of tiny slivers, laid diagonally, carefully written on Hannibal's skin by Will's hand. They were pale slivers against equally pale skin and sometimes Will liked to add new ones just for the splash of color.

He looked up into Hannibal's eyes, and grinned before he leaned in to kiss him. "What do you want to do today?"

So many things, Will was sure. Hunt someone down, carve out their liver, make them into sausage. Eat them for breakfast, and maybe they would do that later in the week. Maybe they would do a lot of things, because everyone believed that Hannibal was effectively muzzled, both in mind and body. They were wrong, of course. "Asking is ridiculous, my dear Will, when you already know the answer."

"It's still polite to ask. There's an exhibit in the city centre as well..." He turned his head, pressed his teeth again Hannibal's skin, bit near a string of muscle that would shake him of his calm.

It accomplished exactly what he expected. Hannibal gave a low sound in his throat, impatient and demanding. "Exhibit later, Will. Sex now."

"Good." He moved his hand up from idly stroking Hannibal's cock, dragged his hands along the lean line of back muscles. He liked their position, liked Hannibal above him, planned to steer the man into fucking himself on Will's cock.

Very good, indeed, and it would seem that Hannibal agreed. He shifted, leaned in and traced his tongue over the smooth line of scar left behind from Dolarhyde's attempt to slice open Will's face. "Hmm."

"Hmm, yes." He tipped his chin up, kissed Hannibal briefly, just a taste, while the man moved on in his own explorations. Calm, faintly controlled, though he'd taken his time before and made Hannibal beg for the opportunity to be fucked or fuck, taken him apart slowly with orgasm and knife and fingers until he'd grown shaky and savage.

Maybe for after the exhibit.

Teeth nipped sharply at the square of his jaw and then moved on, always a threat and a promise and a thrill. Sometimes, he worried the blood to the surface, licked it off of the skin, and his mouth tasted of blood and copper when he came back up to kiss Will again.

Will didn't mind at all, because it was a fair trade. They both got what they wanted out of something that could've been a mess otherwise. A worse mess. Will shifted his hands to Hannibal's chest, pulled and plucked at his nipples in slow lazy gestures.

"You are sometimes completely impossible," Hannibal murmured, tongue lapping over his lower lip.

He squeezed one slowly, the edge of a fingernail barely involved. "Yes."

Hiss of breath, and that was accompanied by a flex of Hannibal's hips, the head of his cock rubbing against the groove of Will's hip. God, he was never going to regret making the effort to buy him, never going to regret having to deal with Jack over it, just... fuck, yes.

It was beautiful. He kept his eyes open, and focused on Hannibal's motions, watched him as he arched and ground down against Will's hip at the same time. Arched back far enough that Will could see his nipples, perked up and flushed against his tanned skin. Hannibal tanned up too quickly, left Will feeling pale and sickly standing next to him. Didn't matter; he still enjoyed watching Hannibal, having him, seeing him in sunlight, and he reached up and dragged his nails down Hannibal's ribs. The skin rose in response, and he drew in his breath, clenched his teeth in response.

"I know what you want."

Seeing him in sunlight, not in prison bars, not in prison orange, not underfed and unhealthy. "Do you? Tell me what I want."

That slow, curling smile was unrepentant, held a certain reptilian lack of caring that was utterly attractive to him. "The same thing you always want, Will. The thing you spent so long denying. You want blood, and you prefer that the person you bleed live. Most of the time."

"I also want to see you squirming on my dick." But he did, he wanted to see Hannibal's skin, red on tan, taste it and enjoy himself, and know that he'd _marked_ Hannibal.

Hannibal hummed and rolled away from him. "You can have that, if you like." Yes, and he was digging in the drawer, doubtless for all the necessary items. The fact that the nightstand sex drawer not only contained lube, condoms, and battery operated devices, but also a set of scalpels, well.

Sometimes, he didn't want to bother with condoms, but that was more of a night time thing. It was too early in the day to get _too_ messy. He turned, let a hand reach out to linger against Hannibal's shoulder, the edge of a line there.

When he turned back to Will, he had the case in hand, the lube clasped against it with his fingers, and he was utterly and completely relaxed. "Yours, if you please."

"Thank you." He laid back, opening the lube first, scalpel case close enough to his own side to brush skin should he decide to use one of them.

"And how would you like me? For now." For now, because inevitably Will would change his mind, and so long as there was fucking, that would be fine.

"Riding me." He liked to see Hannibal straining to control himself, liked to watch him tremble with effort, and he could already see in his mind's eye where he wanted to place a single line.

"Then get to business." Slicking his dick, that meant, and Hannibal's gaze had gone hot, wanting.

"You're mouthy this morning," Will hummed. He took his time opening the lube, smearing it over his palm before stroking himself slickly.  

Slow spread of a smile, dirty and easy and just a little terrifying to most people, he knew that for certain. "You prefer it when I am. You often prefer it when I am more than mouthy."

"I do." He smirked as he said it, leaning up on one elbow, sliding slick fingers slowly up between Hannibal's ass cheeks.

"In which case, I will tell you again." Leaning in, he bit hard at Will's shoulder, making him gasp. "Get on with it."

He exhaled hard, let the breath escape raggedly as he shoved two fingers in. "You want it to hurt? Is that what you want?"

Clearly, because his brows were knit, but he was pushing back hard to Will's hand, and it was clear that he wanted that. "Yes..."

He could feel Hannibal's muscles shake, just a little unsteady, and he pressed his fingers in harder, pulled them back slowly. "Tell me how hard."

The annoyed facial expression said so many things. "Do I need to tell you everything today?"

He smirked, and shifted to push up into Hannibal, to push the other man's hips down. "Or you can show me..." Show him by letting him see that mouth drop open, breath hitch deep in his chest. It seemed to be what he wanted because he shoved back to it, and his hands curled into fists against Will's shoulders. Defiant, and seldom, seldom in actual submission in a way that made Will's fingers clutch tighter, as he rocked his hips back, ass pressing hard against the mattress for a moment so he could thrust back up into Hannibal to get another gasp. He wanted to see Hannibal flustered, heated with it, wanted to see the bare pale of his scars highlighted against tanned flushed skin.

It was something he didn't get to see that often, and if he could manage it, he would be damned impressed with himself. The expression on that face was exquisite, scrunched in response, jaw tight, but he still tightened around Will's cock, squeezed him tight. "Nnn."

"I can do this all day." It was a promise and a threat, and he shifted his hips again, slowly, focused on the edges of Hannibal's face, all the way down to his firmly erect dick.

That saucy tongue darted out, moistening his upper lip and then his lower. "Promises, promises, Will."

"I've learned it's dangerous to lie to you." He gave another short sharp shove up with his hips, and let one hand idle over to loosely encircle the base of Hannibal's cock.

Funnily, it got him a laugh, ragged at the edges. "Then you have learned something after all." Yes, and Hannibal's knees dug in sharply on either side of him, his hand coming down to press against the center of Will's chest.

"Oh, I've learned a lot." Another short sharp thrust, and he squeezed the base of Hannibal's cock. Slow, the hand on his chest said slow when he wanted to rut, wanted to flip their positions and fuck his way into Hannibal.

If anyone knew how much control Hannibal had retained, Will would most likely join him in his chipped and owned state of existence. As it was, he enjoyed the fact of it altogether too much. "Yes. You have." He'd learned a language in gesture and motion in the silences, and he'd given Hannibal a return in lines, marks that made him Will's, that protected them both and had since it had all started. Will started to thrust upward slowly, taking his time, feeling the shiver in Hannibal's fingers as he started to slip.

It wasn't unusual, the way he concentrated on it, the way he shuddered every so often when his back and hip caught unpleasantly. It didn't stop him enjoying himself, though, his fingers curling in tightly, nails leaving behind marks, scratches. "Nnnn. Yes."

"You're gorgeous. Crumbling, sweating, golden..." He thrust harder, fingers pulling Hannibal down firmly. 

The way he breathed in was sharp, in through the nose, and then he moaned, the sound cracked and short, and Will loved the sight of it, loved the way he moved in response, tightened around his cock, and fuck. Fuck, but he was going to explode.

He wanted to hang on, watch the edges of Hannibal's eyes soften and show little cracks that suggested breaking. He wanted to pound him longer, wanted to feel his muscles quiver, watch everything slowly collapse. "Yes, yes, yes..."

Fucking amazingly yes, and that sound. That sound right there it was everything he could imagine wanting from now until he died, and he tightened his grip, stroked just so, and watched Hannibal go to pieces on top of him. Watched the flush that made scars stand out, and just kept fucking, watching Hannibal shudder with pleasure and the marks that said mine to Will.

Mine, mine, mine, and there were tiny rivulets of blood on his chest from the vicious grip of Hannibal's fingers, his nails, semen droplets spattered there, too, and just the sight of it made Will arch and come.

He kept thrusting, but it lost the pace, lost the beautiful pattern, and Will let his hands slide up from Hannibal's hips, to his sides, his spine, and pulled him down, closer. "Mine."

"Yes."

Yes. Scars and all, damage, insane sex drive, insatiable appetite. All Will's. He let his teeth linger against Hannibal's jaw, and felt contentment as they laid there in the morning sunlight.


End file.
